


Present Time, Todd Anderson

by Andsoshewrites



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 10:34:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11758029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andsoshewrites/pseuds/Andsoshewrites
Summary: Todd Anderson had wrapped the arm his soulmark is on in bandages the moment his soulmark started coming in. Today, he rips the bandages off.For the DPS Fic Exchange 2017 for the prompt "anderperry: the soulmate au where your soulmates last words are tattooed on their arm and Neil says the last words he says to Todd and Todd recognizes those words and gets Neil to talk to him, saving his life."





	Present Time, Todd Anderson

It doesn’t burn.

There is no itch, no scratch, no _physical_ reason why Todd should feel the urge to rip the bandages off his arm and _look_. But there is the deep, burning panic that started and spread from the hollow of his ribs as soon as he saw that single look—Neil’s dead, blank _eyes_.

( _The first time Todd wants to look under his bandages is when a warm hand firmly shakes his: Neil Perry says, “Hey, I hear we’re going to be roommates. I’m Neil Perry,” and looks at him like he’s his own— more than Jeffrey Anderson’s younger brother. His deep brown eyes shine with something Todd has never had or known but some well hidden part of him_ wants _to know so badly, and he has to wonder if this smile is just for him or for everyone._ )

Todd has only seen that death, that blankness in Neil’s eyes once before, and it was on the first day they’d met when Neil’s father had told him to quit the school annual. He’d only seen it briefly—Mr. Perry had summoned Neil out of the room shortly after—, but even then, it hadn’t been as bad as this. Had it? Maybe—maybe he’s more worried about it now because he knows Neil better, but no—he _knows_ something’s wrong. Had no one else seen it? Neil isn’t supposed to look like that. Neil should _never_ look like that.

( _Todd catches it briefly. The way Neil is looking at him after he’s just created his first_ real _poem, right here in the front of Mr. Keating’s classroom. He can’t help but smile—at Keating, at Neil, at everyone. No one’s ever looked at him like this before, with the collective admiration and respect he sees almost all around the room, and no has_ especially _ever looked at him like Neil is looking at him before; he looks beyond awed and amazed, and Todd feels like he_ knows _this feeling. He knows it so well, with everything he sees in Neil—with all of his kindness and selflessness and encouragement._

 _"That was amazing, Todd!” Neil says later, back in their room, “_ You’re _amazing!”_   _and Todd lets himself forget about the worries he has about it and hugs Neil, the brightest smile he can ever remember having on his face, his brain acutely focusing on where his bandages touch Neil’s back._ )

“Are you okay, Todd?” Someone—Charlie—says, and Todd wonders how they can notice _him_ but not _Neil_. He knows that he’s breathing way too fast and he knows that people know it now, but he doesn’t care about any of it. Something’s _wrong_.

In the middle of the crowd, in front of the building housing the theater that he had seen Neil act his first role in, Todd rips the bandages off his arm with one violent, panicked yank, and everyone goes very quiet: even those hurriedly passing by gushing over their children stop their fervent praising to look at him in momentary silence.

_I can’t, guys_

Todd feels himself shaking. _No. No, no, no_.

He has to find Keating. Charlie touches his shoulder and tries to ask him what’s wrong and what’s happening, but Todd doesn’t have the duality of mind to be able to tell him that he needs to find Keating and that he _cannot_ tolerate being touched right now. Some peripheral part of his memory brings up the image of Keating trying to talk with Mr. Perry before he and Neil drove away.

Like he had been minutes ago, _before_ Todd had come to this horrible realization, Keating is standing by the road, staring off after Mr. Perry’s car, snow falling and melting on his face; Todd grabs onto his arm like it’s a plank of wood and he’s adrift in the ocean. “Mr. Keating, it’s Neil. He—I—” and he holds out his bare, pale arm, unable to bring himself to say it. Keating sucks in a breath.

“We have to go stop him,” Keating says eventually, once he finds the words.  Charlie, who had followed Todd over, grabs his arm and yanks it toward himself, reading it. He takes a sharp breath in just like Keating, and Todd can’t bear to look at his face.

“I’m coming too,” he says.

“Charlie—”

“No! Neil’s my friend too, and…” Charlie either sees something in the way Keating is looking at him or comes to the decision to use this tactic on his own, “I know where he lives.”

“You can come,” Keating says at that, “just…tell the other boys that we can’t give them a ride back tonight. And do it quickly. We don’t have much time.”

Todd finds himself in the front seat of Mr. Keating’s car going forward at a speed that is too, too, _too slow_. He has his fingers bundled into the fabric of his pants and his arm pressed tightly against his body, looking down at his shoes and avoiding the images of streets and houses passing by in front of him. Aside from Charlie giving directions, the car is very quiet.

Charlie stops them at Neil’s house, and the three of them walk up to the door, Keating ringing the doorbell but Todd somehow ending up in front. As footsteps start to become audible from the door, Todd blurts out, “What if you can’t change this? What if it’s too late? What if he’s already—”

Mr. Perry swings the door open, revealing himself and Mrs. Perry, standing silently and unobtrusively off to the side. Some smell enters Todd’s nose that isn’t there at the sight of them, and it smells like blood.

The initial surprise that had kept them all silent disappears as Mr. Perry’s eyes lock with Keating’s, and he barks out, “How did you find my house, Keating?”

“I told him,” Charlie says, and Todd realizes that Charlie and Keating are waiting on _him_ to say something because, after all, he has the evidence on his arm.

“Where’s Neil?” he asks; it’s the only thing he can think of, the only thing he wants to say to _them_.

“Upstairs, sleeping,” Mr. Perry says with a scowl, “like you boys would be if Keating here had any sense. How dare you come to my house unannounced? I ought to call the authorities—”

“I need to see Neil,” Todd says because they really don’t have time for _any_ of this when Neil isn’t in his sight and those words are still seared onto his arm.

“Neil isn’t going to be seeing anyone here. What he needs is to be straightened out, and—” Todd thrusts his arm at Mr. Perry and uses the opportunity of him gaping and stepping back to rush past him and up the stairs, calling for Neil. “No!” Mr. Perry calls after a minute once he’s gotten over his shock, “No son of mine— _anyone_ could say those words to you, and just because—” Charlie grabs his arm as he turns to go and chase after Todd and holds him back. “Let go of me!” he shouts, “My son isn’t like _that_ —suicidal or…or _that_. I’m going to stop that Anderson boy!”

“With all due _respect_ , Mr. Perry,” Keating spits, “’that Anderson boy’ is going to save your son’s life.”

“Chase after him!” Mr. Perry calls to Mrs. Perry, but she stands right where she is as if stuck, looking between her husband and the stairs. “What are you doing, Margaret? Call the police, do something!” She doesn’t budge.

Todd runs into Neil on the stairs after rounding a corner.

He looks shaken, somehow, how one might look caught in a lie. Todd notices nothing off about his appearance initially, but there’s still something _wrong_ about his eyes, and as he gets a moment to breathe a bit more and take in Neil standing there alive, he notices that his shirt is on inside out. Neil smiles, trying to assuage the obvious panic Todd is emanating and opens his mouth to speak, but Todd thrusts his arm out at him, not sure how it _works_ but wanting Neil to _see_. Wanting Neil to _know_. His smile vanishes.

( _Todd sets himself out in the cold half-hoping to be found and half-hoping to be found by one person in particular; he’s letting himself be miserable for a while, and everyone passes him by as he sits silently on the concrete. Everyone except for Neil, who finds him before he starts to feel too cold._

 _It’s amazing how Neil can make him feel so much better so quickly, how he’s smiling after only a few of Neil’s attempts to cheer him up. Todd’s smile is stretching at his cheeks when he chucks the desk set over the wall, and he can hardly help it anymore; he can barely wait until they get back to their room before he grabs Neil by the tie and pulls him in, pressing their lips together swiftly but firmly, expecting a punch or a shove but instead being picked up in the air and spun around, laughing breathlessly with Neil._ )

“I know what you were gonna do Neil,” Todd says.

“Todd—” Neil starts, a graver expression taking his face, and now, Todd’s arm _does_ burn, letters melting and appearing and tingling on his skin as he grips at it in pain. He slams it down—across his chest again—because he has never, _never_ wanted to know what it said. Neil stares at him, a slight frown on his face, until he seems to get used to the pain and says, with a small, miserable voice Todd has never heard from him before, “What else can I do?” Then, suddenly, he looks all around, eyes fearful. “How did you get in here? Where’s my father?”

“Charlie’s holding him back, but Neil, _listen_. We can get you out of here. We can do _something_. I don’t know—I don’t know what, I—my parents wouldn’t care if I took some money out for you—I never ask for anything, they don’t care what I do.” Neil lets out a deep sigh, and Todd can tell that he’s still unconvinced. “Keating’s here too,” he tries, pushing on, “nobody wants you dead, Neil. Please, you don’t have to—”

“ _I_ want me dead!” Neil yells, “Isn’t that enough?”

There’s a sudden stillness. From the other room, sounds start to fill in gradually; there’s the soft sound of Mrs. Perry’s sniffles and then Mr. Perry shouting, “Get off of me!” and the sound of stumbling feet as he apparently gets Charlie to do just that. Hearing him coming their way, Neil immediately starts to back up. Todd grabs him by the wrist and they both find themselves face to face with Mr. Perry.  “Get off of my son!” Mr. Perry says, yanking Todd’s arm away, and then, something unexpected happens.

A small voice calls out, “Why can’t you ever leave him be, Tom?” At the bottom of the stairs stands Mrs. Perry, and though she is shrunk into herself and crying, her feet are firmly planted. “Didn’t you hear what he said?”

“Margaret,” Mr. Perry says shortly, and he looks back and forth between Todd and his son and his wife with narrowed eyes, unsure of which area of failed discipline to target first. He stays where he is and says, “You don’t mean to tell me that you actually _believe_ a word that’s been said this evening since _Keating_ arrived, do you?”

Mrs. Perry’s lower lip wobbles. “I think…your problem,” she says slowly, “…is that you don’t believe in our son.” Todd turns his head immediately to Neil and watches him breathe, his eyes glossy with unshed tears; he thinks about how he almost never got to watch him breathe again and wants to press himself against his side to feel that slow, rhythmic rise and fall. He doesn’t.

“How dare you?” Mr. Perry demands, his attention now totally focused on his wife, and in this span of time, Todd grabs Neil by the hand and rushes past them and out the door, Charlie and Keating following quickly behind. They get into Keating’s car and drive away, Mr. Perry’s screaming face as he runs out onto his lawn after them disappearing in the rearview mirrors, and Todd lets out the biggest breath his lungs are capable of. Neil’s head is leaned against the window and his eyes are clenched shut, a pained expression on his face.

The car is too quiet, and they don’t have an answer, but Neil is alive and there, and Todd’s arm now says something _else_ , something completely different that he doesn’t have to look at. He breathes evenly for the rest of the ride.


End file.
